


Endearments

by allegedlyanandroid



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Endearments, Fluff, Gavin Reed Not Being an Asshole, Gavin Thinks He's Being Sneaky, Italian Gavin Reed, M/M, Pre-Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Soft Gavin Reed, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900, Spoiler Alert: He Fucking Isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegedlyanandroid/pseuds/allegedlyanandroid
Summary: It is a well-known fact that Gavin rarely calls anyone by name. Nines is the newest target of his insistent name-calling, for better or worse.With a bit of help (and luck), perhaps Nines can figure out that they're in no way mean-spirited but rather Gavin's own way of expressing his feelings. And this knowledge might just be what he needs in order to find the key to unlocking his own.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 28
Kudos: 293





	Endearments

**Endearments**

It was a well-known fact that Gavin rarely called anyone by name. Fowler was always referred to as Boss or something of a similar variety; that is unless the issue he pushed was serious in which case he reverted to Fowler or occasionally, to really drive a point home, Jeffery. Tina was either bitch or babes, depending on his mood and their interactions during the day and Hank was most often referred to as old man or dickwad, despite RK900’s attempts to wean him off of using the last one.

To a non-deviated android such as RK900 the terms of ‘endearments’ (although that’s a term he uses lightly) Gavin bestows upon every and all persons he meets makes little to no sense. It's unprofessional and he has on numerous occasions said as much (not that Gavin ever listens).

Nor does he particularly care for the numerous nicknames Gavin has for him instead of using his designation, or he wouldn’t have, if machines could form their own opinions. Tin-can, Data, Robocop, Toaster. The list near endless and had caused multiple instability warnings during their first few weeks of working together.

Still, if there was one nickname RK900 prefers above the rest (although he lacked any sort of preference really. Gavin why are you laughing?) it would be RK or Nines since they were both abbreviations of his actual ‘name’.

-~-

Despite how they bickered and sassed each other on a daily basis, Gavin seemed to enjoy it well enough. He’d even begun to drag Nines home with him most days of the week, insisting that he sleep on the couch instead of utilising one of the perfectly functional charging-pods at the station. Nines remined him that he does not in fact sleep at all (being in stasis is not a good enough likeness to a human sleep-cycle, it’s far too regular for it) and besides, with access to the DPD-network, he could work for the remaining seven hour after maintenance while waiting for Gavin to arrive for the new work day.

Gavin had stared silently at him for a few seconds and then turned and walked away without another word.

(Nines had caught him ranting about their conversation to an amused Tina a while later. Through strategic recon he’d figured one thing out: the reason for Gavin’s offer had stemmed from concern over Nines’ well-being, although it definitely hadn’t come across that way when he’d asked.)

Justifying it to himself as a way to mend bridges, he inquired later in the day if Gavin’s offer was still open, and if so, he’d like to take him up on it.

That was the first time Gavin called him dolcezza.

Nines didn’t put much thought into it at the time, after all, what was another nickname in Gavin’s already overflowing arsenal? What did nag him though, when Gavin repeated it later the same evening, was not really knowing what it meant.

See, for all of the talk of Nines being an improvement on the RK800’s, he wasn’t _technically_ finished by the time Connor had stumbled across him in a remote corner of the Cyberlife-tower. Apart from the more physical attributes, like the inability to smile or simulate breathing, he also hadn’t been outfitted with a way to identify and translate languages or a sufficient social module; the last one at least according to most people.

It was irritating but not an issue, not really.

-~-

Little by little Gavin endeared himself to the seemingly stoic android, until even the smallest of smiles could throw up dozens of software instabilities. Still, his coding refused to break. There was not even the smallest of scratches on the immovable wall until the day Gavin called him caro.

It had been Gavin’s answer to a question (do you trust me? Of course, caro) and even if it had made him pause briefly (1.34 seconds, _unacceptable_ ) it hadn’t deterred him from capturing the armed suspect wanted for questioning. Only later in the car had he asked what it meant and Gavin had merely shrugged easily with a careless grin for an only answer.

Nines frowned at the careless dismissal and a small part of the wall chipped away, unbeknownst to them both.

-~-

They worked together, watched movies on Gavin’s semi-decent couch and went out together on their days off so Gavin could introduce him to the many things Detroit had to offer. They fought (not often but sometimes it seemed inevitable) though eventually they’d gravitate towards one another and exchange stilted apologies and tokens of forgiveness that bore more meaning than words ever could.

(The only time Gavin called him by his designation in full was when they fought. Nines never knew he could ~~despise~~ be disturbed by the way his ‘name’ sounded on someone else's lips.

It must be another fault in his coding.)

-~-

Every time Gavin murmurs soothingly to his cats in a warm, foreign tongue, Nines presses phantom hands and rest his forehead on the red wall prohibiting him from stepping closer.

-~-

“Hey bello! You’re just in time. Let me just put some shoes on and we’ll head over to Teenie’s, alright?”

Nines cocks his head at the new name and nods his ascent. It was June 24th, a little more than six months after their partnership begun and Tina’s birthday celebration was to be held at a small bar a little ways away from the precinct. Gavin had, at first, been reluctant to join mostly for his inability to get along with the majority of their colleagues despite the major changes in his behaviour over the last few months. It would take a while yet before Gavin was accepted into any social circles.

Surprisingly enough, the one he was on most friendly terms with apart from Tina and Chris was Connor. Gavin had apologised to him when he’d returned to the DPD with RK900 in tow and Connor had accepted it, despite its awkward delivery, since Gavin had appeared to be genuinely remorseful for his actions.

Nines wasn’t jealous of his self-proclaimed brother. Not one bit.

There is an errant strand of hair resting out of place on Gavin’s forehead and Nines almost reaches out to tuck it back where it belongs before the wall stops him the way it always does, ~~it's frustrating~~ , although the fractures and chipped away blocks are becoming more apparent by each passing day.

~~He wants it gone.~~

Gavin, as it turns out, is a happy drunk. Laughter comes to him more naturally in an inebriated state than it does otherwise (barring when he allows his metaphorical walls to drop in his own home regardless of Nines’ presence), as does touch. He spends a big portion of the evening leaning most of his body-weight on Tina with an arm slung around her shoulders in a loose embrace as they cackle over inside jokes and compilations of funny cat videos or, when she turns her attentions elsewhere, with his head resting on Nines’ stiff shoulder.

He even plants a kiss on each of Chris’ and his wife’s cheek when it’s time to depart and ruffles Connor’s contained mess of curls out of whatever order he’d managed to put them in with products while laughing at Connor’s miffed expression.

Gavin stumbles through the door giggling and in high spirits. He stops on his way to the bedroom to feed the three insistent felines weaving around his legs and to pet them while they devour their sustenance. A few minutes later he is sprawled out on his bed with an awkward Nines standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

There’s a furrow between Gavin’s brows when he squints up in the direction Nines’ form, though his eyes remained glassy and slightly unfocused.

“Have you ever slept in a bed before?” He asks earnestly.

“No.”

A disbelieving huff escapes Gavin’s parted lips. “Would you like to?”

Nines straightens his spine further and clenches the hand gripping his wrist tighter for no discernible reason. “You propositioning me is highly--”

He’s cut off by a guaffing round of laughter. “No fucking way Tin-can. I’m not into people who can’t properly consent. Defeats the purpose y’know?” he pauses there, thinking for a bit. “Or I suppose you wouldn’t. Anyways, I meant sleeping but if you’re uncomfortable sharing I could take the couch.”

Nines blinks, _processing..._

“I don’t understand.”

“Just- you’re all supposed to be all human-like now right? Humans sleep in beds. Hell, most androids do too these days, why shouldn’t you? Even if it’s only this once?”

Nines considers this. Gavin had after all tried his very best to show him all the aspects of human intricacies and behaviours, of his own accord, and Nines very rarely protested. If it would foster a positive reaction, well... his programming could hardly fault him for complying with the careless suggestion.

“Very well.”

Nines settles on top of the covers. He lays on his back, hands folded atop his stomach while Gavin regards him from his place beneath the covers.

There’s a flash of teeth as Gavin smiles at him, soft and vulnerable. “Night caro.”

“Good night Gavin.”

Halfway through the night after waking up from his required time in stasis and spending the better part of an hour petting the feline curled into a bun right above his thirium pump regulator does he realise that it’s the first time outside a life-or-death situation he’s used Detective Reed’s first name.

He turns then to look at Gavin snoozing beside him, one of his hands clutching the fabric of Nines’ sleeve loosely. A grey tabby, the youngest of the bunch, curled up right against his neck; keeping it warm. The third cat is laying loaf-style over his feet and staring accusingly up at Nines. If, that is, a cat was capable of such a thing.

If he could choose for himself, Nines thinks helplessly, he’d certainly choose this (the warmth spreading through his core and the semi-cluttered chaos of Gavin’s apartment) above the sterile white of his ~~cage~~ room in Cyberlife Tower or the steel/glass modern finish of the 21st precinct.

-~-

They’re working late at the precinct a week later, a backlog of reports catching up to them after closing a difficult case, when Gavin groans and stands up. His joints pop loudly in the otherwise silent bullpen. “Fuck it all. I’m out. You ready to go tesoro?” he asks, a slanted smile adorning his lips.

Gavin freezes at the sound of a gasp and a loud clattering opposite them in the bullpen. He whips around to see Connor with a hand raised to his open mouth and a steadily spinning, yellow LED. His expression turns from easy and carefree to one of mounting horror in less than a moment.

It clicks then, that Gavin had always been careful not to call him anything other than Nines or RK whenever Connor was nearby. It had settled as a well-worn (though he’d neglected to notice it) pattern and Nines speaks before Gavin has the chance to.

“If you would be so kind as to tell me what Gavin has been so insistent on calling me, I would very much appreciate the assistance.” Nines’ voice is monotonous and he has half a mind to seize the Detective’s flailing arms with his hands to keep him from impacting his predecessor’s choice to reply.

“Oh. Has this been going on long?”

“Months.” Nines replies and pretends not to notice the strangled noise Gavin lets out at the confession.

Connor taps his lips with a finger and smiles sickly-sweet though his eyes are full of mischief. “Oh... I’m not sure if I should spoil it for you... but months? Really Gavin?”

_“Fuck off!”_

“That’s not very nice.” Connor pouts, playing the part of hurt friend to a T; even going so far as to turn a watery ‘puppy-dog’ look in Gavin’s direction.

“If I apologise will you go away?”

“Sure.”

The red is more apparent than ever as Gavin grits out an insincere ‘sorry’. Nines doesn’t want Connor to leave. He wants to know what the names mean.

Wrapped up in his own thoughts he almost misses the wink Connor sends him over his shoulder as he saunters away, leaving Gavin and Nines completely alone in the bullpen as they wait for the remainder of the night-shift to arrive. A text message notif materialises on his HUD and he opens it with an eagerness he shouldn’t feel.

It’s a list of endearments, all of which Gavin had called him in the past passing months complete with their English counterparts.

While Nines’ processors whirl, crashes, reboots, tries to comprehend what’s been going on for the better part of their partnership. Gavin continues rambling nervously beside him, gesturing wildly with his hands while Nines stares through the splinting red wall until it crashes down around them in a million brittle shards.

“Why?”

Gavin stops; head turned towards Nines with eyes big. He looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Why what?”

“Sweetheart.” Nines begins, taking a step closer. “Dear.” He continues while advancing slowly, Gavin’s fluttering heartbeat loud to his audio processors. “Handsome. Treasure.” He lists on his fingers while his partner stutters on air. “Why me? Out of everyone, _why me?_ ”

Gavin looks up into Nines’ eyes, vivid with emotion, and lets out a deep sigh. He buries his face in his hands as he curses Connor in in every language he knows before looking up to answer: “I don’t know Nines, maybe because I like you? You kinda grew on me after a while.”

He smiles, but it appears tired and insincere. “I know you don’t feel the same. So I'll understand if-”

“What if I do? Would you let me treat you to dinner then?” Nines interrupts, not allowing Gavin a moment to backtrack.

“But,” Gavin frowns, “you’re not a deviant.”

For the very first time in his rather short existence, Nines smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheat sheet:  
> (though please correct me if I'm wrong. I tried doing research since I do not in fact speak italian.)
> 
> Tesoro - treasure, darling  
> Dolcezza - sweetheart (informal)  
> Bello (m) - beautiful/handsome  
> Caro - dear
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd appreciate if you dropped a kudos or, if you really want to make me grin like a madman, a comment. Until next time!


End file.
